


I, Laura

by Rhythyml



Series: Little Ghouls [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Logan (X-Men) is briefly mentioned, Logan is Laura's actual foster parent, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhythyml/pseuds/Rhythyml
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura Kinney is deemed useless by her creators, and given away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Manipulation and Distortion, Oh My

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the end of exams, I posted this.

  X-23 hangs there in her bonds.

 

  The dungeon isn't much of an affair. It's simply pale stone and metal shaped into walls and twisted together to become her home. A couple of trays are lying on the ground, bearing silver weapons hooked and curved into Man's desire. There's a lot of them, ranging from saws to scalpels. She stopped catergorizing them once it was clear whatever that was holding her was immune to her claws.

 

  Her cuffs are intriuging. Both of them are sleek, laughably slender circles encircling her wrists and holding them up and above her head, giving her plenty of time to examine them to pass the hours. Yet the thin material held no matter what she tries-whether she tugs, yanks, or dislocates her fingers. Red veins pulses up and down the black surface, giving her the impression it's organic and alive, whatever it is. Similiar ties are binding her ankles to her thighs, but not too tightly as though to cut off blood flow. So she hangs there, kneeling with her arms hoisted high in the air. It's uncomfortable, of course, but she's endured worse.

 

  And besides, her owner comes often. Her head rises slowly as she sees a shining light permeate her dimly-lit cell. The woman climbing daintily down the stairs, holding the dazzling illumination, is shorter than most of her assassinations, but far more lucid and dangerous, she knows that from personal experience.

 

  "Hello, my dear X." Sen says, tilting her head to the side in a birdlike manner. X-23 remembers the last time the woman tilted her head like that. It happened when X-23 had made a degrading remark about her eyes, mainly to rile her up. Her insane regeneration didn't prevent her from feeling pain, and she had felt buckets of it for days.

 

  "We have a guest today," Sen coos, setting down a plate of food near X-23. Her stomach growls, and she clenches her bound hands. It's beef today, fried crispy meat with spinach and white rice. She gets a meal approximately twice a day or so, Sen sometimes 'forgetting' to bring nourishment back in her early days, when she didn't obey orders. She knows better than to bite at the hand that feeds her now.

 

  After all, Sen is what ordinary people would call psychotic.

 

  When Sen crouches low and scoops food into a spoon, X-23 parts her lips obediently. If she spills food Sen wouldn't like that. And Sen is her mistress.

 

  She must always obey her mistress. 

 

  Sen pats X-23 when she's done, the floor between them perfectly clean. "Good girl, X, good girl." X-23 remains motionless under her touch, then glances at her smiling owner.

 

  "Thank you, Mistress." X-23 recites. "You're very kind to me, Mistress."

 

   After all, Sen is very nice to her.

 

  "Mmmhmm." Sen hums, her rust-coloured eyes gleaming. Then one eye clouds over, turning an awful, monstrous black. The ash-shaded eye glints up at her, the iris of that orb becoming a bloody, sanguine red. "Lie still."

 

  It's what she always says before she moves in. X-23 submissively loosens her muscles, doing her best to obey, to follow. Sen smiles, pleased, and embraces X-23.

 

  And then her head goes up, up, her neck uncoiling like a cobra, and Sen's sharpened teeth go into her bare shoulder, always free of cloth for feeding. X-23 winces slightly, feeling the muscle being shredded, feeling Sen's canines work into her meaty shoulder and rip off a hunk of tissue. Blood trickles and fondues down her skin, even as her regeneration works so that not even a scar is left.

 

  Sen grins again, more feral, and sits back, wiping her mouth and smearing the blood all over her hand. X-23 widens her greenish-grey eyes, silently asking for permission, and Sen proffers her hand to her, her eyes normal once more. As X-23 stretches out her tongue to clean Sen's hand, she remembers it wasn't always this way.


	2. In Which Sen is Deliberately Psychopathic

_"I know that you don't know who I am~" the green-haired woman sang as she came down the stairs, carrying a luminous old-fashioned lamp in her hands._

 

_"Release me." X-23 demanded, pulling violently at her bonds. "Release me at once."_

 

_The short woman laughed, a eerie, echoing chuckle. She set the lamp down. "Where's the fun in that?"_

 

_"I found out from a little birdie that you have a healing factor." the greenette continued. "And guess what? I'll like to have a trial run!" she proclaimed, spinning around, her now mismatched eyes a horrifying mix of normal brown-red and a blackened, bloody pinprick of light. Before X-23 could respond, the woman was hovering above her, then she roughly yanked one of her bound legs upwards, causing her whole body to overbalance. By the time X-23 recovered from the stinging blow her head received, the woman was biting deeply into her thigh, blood running down her torn clothing and mixing with her sweat._

 

_After the pain encompassing her entire being faded away, the woman licked the blood away from her mouth. "Nice." she said, poking at the bone-exposing wound that was knitting together and healing right before her eyes. "People would give a leg for that sort of ability."_

 

_X-23 laid painfully on the ground, too shocked and charged to say that she just had, indeed, given a leg. So she let the woman soldier on._

 

_"And you taste pretty good, too. I'm keeping you." the woman concluded. "Oh, by the way, my name is Sen, but you'll be calling me Mistress Sen, or just Mistress."_

 

She's brought back to reality by a firm, callous pinch of her scalp. "Seems like your healing ability makes it so that you don't need hair conditioning." Sen observes, pulling her hair just a little harder than normal so X-23 knows her absence of mind has not gone unnoticed.

 

"We're getting an esteemed guest, and he wants you as a party favor." Sen's eyes are devoid of compassion as she unlocks the shackles on X-23's calves and legs, undoing the suspension of her arms and leading her to the bathroom. Sen whispers into her ear in a chilling whisper, so that she flinches minutely: "Behave."

 

X-23 does, because even when the 'guest' forces her to seal her lips around his penis and swallow every bit of his come, even when he breaks her spine while pounding her into the silken bed, she knows her Mistress Sen loves her, and that's why she's doing this to her.

 

Right?


	3. In Which Things Get Better

  The days wane and wax, and X-23 dreams of aboveground, because that's the only thing she can do to stave off the ever-looming, ominous threat of insanity. She thinks it must be nice up there. There's probably an energy source up there giving light to everyone, otherwise everyone would be underground, like her. Maybe they are all underground, and she hasn't noticed yet. Her ankles go numb then tingle with pins and needles, so she shifts her weight and continues thinking.

 

  She tries to think of how the main energy source looks like, but can only come up with her mistress' lamp.

 

  Sen stopped bringing food some time ago. One, three, two, ten days ago, she doesn't know and she can't find out. All she feels when she bunks down at night is the aching, growling feeling in her belly.

 

  If this keeps up, she'll starve to death before her regeneration can help her.

 

  In the back of her mind, she worries that her mistress abandoned her.

 

  Eight, four, seven, five days later, men in suits swarm in. She's sitting there like always, practically immobile in her bonds. Then there's a muffled thump and a scream pierces the air. It warbles up and down one octave, screeching and grating on her ultra-sensitive ears, then there's a sound like concrete cracking and it falls silent. X-23 stares ahead, listening hard to see if there's anyone heading in her direction. New smells, distinctly lacking the tang of blood Sen's friends always seemed to have, waft down the corridor, and X-23 frowns when there is no smell of Sen accompanying them.

 

  "Search the rooms." a voice says.

 

  "Oh my god," another person gasps, sounding faint. "How did we not notice these before?"

 

  "Benihime is a very skilful ghoul, Furata." the first voice enunciates irritably, probably to the second speaker. "SSS-rated ghouls always are."

 

  The voices silence, much to X-23's disappointment. She would like to learn what is a 'SSS-rated ghoul' and why they are searching the place. Is it because....Mistress is gone?

 

  X-23 comes to the conclusion that must be the case when she hears china breaking with a muffled tinkle. Mistress Sen would never let anyone touch her wares.

 

  Then a couple of men come down the stairs, unaccompanied by a light source so they emerge from the shadows like ink detaching from a brush, look at her, and scream.

 

  Two years later, X-23 is leaving the office, a bag slung over her shoulder. She exits the building, looks up at the sky, harbouring the light source called a 'sun', and breathes in deeply, inhaling the scent of a thousand unaware people.

 

  It's been a long time since she'd been 'rescued' from the dungeon by an organization called the CCG. CCG apparently stands for Commission of Counter Ghoul, and as its name implies, it's dedicated to eradicating ghouls, creatures that derive their sustenance from human flesh.

 

   X-23 has been working for the CCG for the past year.

 

  "Hey, Laura!" one of her co-workers, a bubbly brunette calling herself Jubilee, shouts as she dashes out the building. Her absurdly bright yellow raincoat flaps behind her as she hands X-23-or rather, Laura, as her co-workers affectionately call her-a thick file. "Mr Xavier says to look over this file, y'know, for boring paperwork."

 

  "Thank you, Jubilation." Laura accepts the folder with a hand, tucking it into her cat-themed bag. Jubilee scrunches up her face at the use of her full name.

 

  "Ugh, don't call me that! Anyways, see you tomorrow for coffee?"

 

  Laura pauses. "Okay." she says, a bit stiffly. Her co-workers have been pestering her to do 'teenage stuff', like watching movies, eating junk food, and going out to cafeterias, so maybe her acceptance will quiet them for a while. She can go back to work later, she reasons. Deep inside her heart, though, she's touched by her co-workers' thoughtfulness.

 

  "Bye!" Jubilee waves, backing away a few steps then sprinting back into the CCG building. Laura smiles ever so slightly, and continues to walk back home.

 

  When the street's almost empty, her brisk stride turns into a full-out sprint. She runs down the pavement, her light leather shoes bending and accommodating her every movement as she blows past shops and lamps, her feet almost seeming to fly. Her arms swing with her quick sprint, hastening her movement. Laura loves running. In those moments when she's pounding into the ground and she's moving oh-so-quickly, she feels as though she's soaring, as though if she runs hard and fast she might just leap into the sky and stay amongst the clouds forever.

 

  Lost in her fanciful dreams, she nearly hits a person walking in the opposite direction. The girl throws herself aside to avoid Laura, but the books gathered on her arms tumble and clatter to the ground, white pages flapping open and paper landing willy-nilly. Laura skids, nearly stepping on a page, and kicks up smoke and dust as she halts in her tracks.

 

  "I'm so sorry!" Laura blabbers, racing back to pick up the books. Fortunately, the unknown person had dropped her stuff in a dry street, otherwise the books would have been ruined there and then. Laura begins picking up the books as the girl wobbles to her feet, her face shadowed. Laura isn't usually so careless in running, except for, it seems, today.

 

  "..." the girl, who Laura can see has completely white hair sheared short in a ragged manner, begins stacking her books in silence.

 

  "Are you okay?" Laura asks, trying to mimic her co-workers' mother-hen way of fussing over injured people. "Did I injure you-"

 

  The white-haired girl tilts her head up, exposing apple-red eyes and a small smile. "I'm Sasaki Shiroi." she says. "I'm fine."

 

  Laura puts the pile of books back into her arms. To her relief, all of them-literature classics and horror stories, it seems-are in pristine condition. She'll rather not withdraw any money from her foster father's account than she has to, despite how much Logan insists that she should indulge.

 

  "I'm Kinney Laura." Laura introduces herself. She spots a file sticking out of the girl's untucked black messenger bag. "Do you work for the CCG, Sasaki-san?" she asks the newly dubbed Shiroi.

 

"Yeah," Shiroi responds quietly, shifting from foot to foot. The shape of her face looks oddly familiar, like Laura had seen it somewhere before. "I'm new though."

 

  Laura quirks her lips. "I started working for the CCG a year ago." she tells Shiroi. Briefly, blood and green hair flashes through her vision, but she ignores it. Her shoulder aches, even though her excellent regeneration had healed the wound until there was nothing left but milky pale skin. She's lucky the CCG didn't investigate into the source of her healing factor, instead attributing it to latent genetics, since there is a number of highly-respected people in the CCG that have varying types of supernatural powers like hers and the higher up leaders probably deems it unwise to antagonise them in any way. After all, they already hunt ghouls. There is no need to add 'mutants', as the public calls them, to their long list of both ghoul _and_ human enemies.

 

  "Oh." Shiroi mutters distantly. Her red eyes are fixed on a point a few inches left of Laura's head.

 

  An idea flashes through Laura's head, and she bursts out: "Join me and my friends for coffee tomorrow." she invites. Shiroi perks up.

 

  "Okay, sure." the female nods, a genuine smile forming on her face. "Where?"

 

  Laura lists the time and place off the top of her head. "It's before working hours." she informs. Laura's sure Jubilee won't mind having another guest. In fact, Jubilee will probably praise Laura for finally making a friend by herself.

 

  "I'll be there." Shiroi promises, turning around and heading for the CCG building. She walks with a little more bounce in her step and Laura watches her go for a while, a stupid grin on her face.

 

  The wind fluffs Laura's hair as she jogs home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there an easier way to put in italics without coding every single paragraph?


End file.
